Izuma Nasiki stood on his porch.
backpack slung over one shoulder, the early sun painting the cracked concrete in gold and shadow.
He paused, feeling a strange heaviness settle in his chest, as if the day itself was holding its breath.
Somewhere, a delivery truck rattled by, its engine coughing as it turned the corner. The air was cool and sharp, tinged with the faint sweetness of cherry blossoms and the lingering smell of last night's rain.
He listened to his mother's voice drifting from the kitchen, humming an old song as she washed the breakfast dishes.
The sound was comforting, grounding him in the familiar before the day swept him away. He hesitated, fingers tracing the rough grain of the porch post, before finally stepping down.
The porch creaked beneath his weight—a small, ordinary sound, but it echoed strangely in the quiet.
He checked the time and felt a small jolt of anxiety. If he didn't hurry, he'd be late. He tugged at the strap of his backpack, feeling the frayed fabric catch against his palm, and tried to shake off the odd sense of unease that clung to him.
Outside, the city was already alive. Neighbors called greetings, a scooter zipped by, and a black crow cawed overhead, its harsh cry cutting through the morning air. Izuma paused, watching the bird wheel against the blue sky. The moment felt off, like a shadow flickering just beyond his vision.
He couldn't help but think, for just a second, how much this felt like the opening of a new arc in one of his favorite anime. He'd always had a knack for noticing details, for catching those little cues that meant something big was about to happen—even if, in real life, it was probably just nerves.
"Kurushimi-kun! Let's go!"
Takumi called from the sidewalk, voice bright and impatient.
Izuma winced, rolling his eyes, but a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. He stepped down, the porch creaking again.
"Don't call me that"
he muttered, but the words held no real heat.
Hana was already there, perched on her battered blue bike, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She grinned, sunlight glinting off the silver studs in her ears.
"Still hate your middle name, huh?"
she teased.
Izuma shrugged, closing the gate behind him with a click that felt both final and familiar.
Ren leaned against the stone wall, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, gaze flicking from Izuma to the street and back again.
"You'll never escape it, you know"
Ren said, his voice dry but not unkind.
Takumi bounced his basketball on the curb, the sound echoing up and down the narrow street.
"Ready for gym class?"
he asked, spinning the ball on his finger.
Izuma glanced at the ball, then at his friends.
The old, familiar flutter of nerves stirred in his stomach, but it was easier to ignore with them here.
"As ready as I'll ever be," he said, trying to sound braver than he felt.
"Coach promised pizza for the winners. That's all I care about,"
Hana said, pushing off from the curb and walking her bike alongside them.
Ren checked his watch, brow furrowing.
"If we're late, we'll be running laps"
he warned, already picking up the pace.
They set off together, weaving through the warren of narrow streets that wound between old houses and tiny shops. The pavement was still damp from last night's rain, and the air was thick with the smell of wet concrete and the tang of gasoline. A delivery truck rattled past, the driver waving as he turned the corner.
Izuma felt a prickling at the back of his neck, as if unseen eyes followed their every step.
"That feeling again"
he thought, swallowing hard.
If this were a manga, he'd be flipping back to see if he missed a panel.
They passed the old shrine at the top of the hill, its red torii gate bright against the mossy stones.
Izuma glanced up, remembering his grandmother's stories about spirits and luck. A sudden chill ran down his spine, and he looked over his shoulder, half-expecting to see something watching him—but there was nothing.
The city buzzed with energy—bikes weaving between cars, shopkeepers sweeping their stoops, students hurrying toward the school gates.
Izuma felt a strange tension in the air, a sense of something waiting just out of sight, but he shook it off.
He focused on the warmth of his friends' voices, the steady beat of Takumi's basketball, the way Hana's laughter made the world a little brighter.
They reached the crosswalk, the signal still red. Izuma watched the cars stream by, sunlight flashing off their windows. He saw his own reflection—a boy with dark hair, tired eyes, and a nervous smile that never quite reached his lips.
The light changed, the little green figure blinking to life. Takumi grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Last one across buys drinks after school!"
He called, already stepping forward.
Izuma laughed, surprised by the sound.
"Deal"
he said, and together they stepped into the flow of the day, not knowing how precious and fragile that ordinary moment truly was..